


~Deleted Scene~ (more like forgotten, lol)

by Doitsuki



Series: Stay [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Rape, noncon, slight necrophilia, weird shit basically lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 14:12:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4708910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitsuki/pseuds/Doitsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>k so this is a thing I honestly thought I integrated into the Thrandolas smut chapter in Stay but um yeah turns out it was just in my mind. So, here is the deleted scene on what Thranduil did to Leggles throughout the night. yeegghh [prepare to shudder]</p>
            </blockquote>





	~Deleted Scene~ (more like forgotten, lol)

Thranduil drifts in and out of sleep, the clutches of deep rest unwilling to take him. While his son remains forcibly conscious beside him (eyes closed, the work of Thranduil's own hands) the Elvenking wonders if he really should be asleep right now. He is by no means exhausted, feeling rather sluggish and drowsy from the events of three hours ago. After taking pleasure in the body of his son (and reciprocating to no effect), a heavy calmness blankets his normally alert senses and invites him to relax. Yet he cannot sleep. Barely awake and with only his instinct for guidance, he attempts to consult his mind. He receives no answer. Next, he looks to his environment. There is Legolas, on his back and with his hair messily arranged around his still form. He looks like a corpse, albeit a very attractive one with his kiss-reddened lips and a little drool from the corner of his mouth. To Thranduil it seems as if he is satisfied, but hope perhaps lingers in his body that he might receive something more. Thranduil feels it, too. When he consults his most base desire, he finds a stirring in his loins at the sight and scent of his son. A little closer he wriggles, his face inching towards Legolas's chest. He rests on the muscle there, noticing how both nipples are firmly erect. They are like that because Legolas's body tissue is paralysed to stiffness but Thranduil does not think of that. He sees arousal, feels it in himself, and acts upon it. It is hardly a decision, for he only moves as his body wishes without thinking much. Alike in nudity, the two elves need not waste what little energy they have to remove clothing or barriers. Legolas cannot speak against his father's actions. The barriers do not exist. 

"Mmmmn..." Thranduil purrs as he nuzzles up into his son's neck, inhaling the _lightly used_ aroma there. From their past activities, Legolas smells more like his father than himself but still has a slight air of a deep, still forest about him. _'So beautiful, and so strong.'_  


When Thranduil attempts to roll his son over, he finds the effort it takes to flip him over too much to bear. Legolas's right arm is bent at such an angle that it prevents him from being turned, thus making him lie on his side, somewhat propped up. It is good enough for Thranduil. All he must do is move. 

He runs a slender, gentle hand along Legolas's exposed side. Ribs and flesh meet his touch and he is confident that by feeding his son and looking after him, Legolas will be healthy again. Thranduil sometimes looks into his son's eyes and sees such a pale, watery sadness there it is clear that something is wrong. 

  
_'I will take care of you...'_ he thinks, _'and tonight, maybe both of us.'_  


In his head, a little voice that sounds a lot like Legolas whines to him that they have already done many things this night. Thranduil shushes the voice by force of will alone. He is hard and ready for the delicious warmth of his son, and will not let anything hold him back. 

He squeezes Legolas's thigh, lifting it and shoving as best he can so it is moved forth. Now Thranduil rubs himself against his son, his length against that soft, soft ass. Oh, how he loves the feel of his sweet little Legolas. Legolas will take what is given to him, and maybe even like it. He does not deny his father a thing. His entrance is stiff and dry but Thranduil leaks wetness to aid his own movements only. Fucking Legolas as he is now is like sticking his dick into the wooden hole of a tree. There is no give to the normally succulent pink muscles inside. Thranduil prevents dryness for himself and rocks his hips back and forth, not knowing how terribly he bruises his son. Legolas does not cry out or even move much. How can he be in pain?

Legolas's mind is still awake. He wants to scream. 

**Author's Note:**

> this would've been hell to try fitting into that chapter, it wouldn't have flowed well. So here it is on its own as a little drabble of text ;v;


End file.
